A World Away
by Jordan Trevor
Summary: They were a lifetime away from Earth, and two of them were a world away from everything else.
1. Chapter 1

**A World Away**

by Jordan Trevor

**Disclaimer:** The crew of _Voyager_ doesn't belong to me.

The fruits of his labor were three bruised bananas and two scarred apples. Tom Paris stared at them in his hands and sighed. _Beggars can't be choosers. Nor can thieves._

He stuck the bananas and one of the apples into the cloth bag that hung over his shoulder. And then, after shining it up a bit on the front of his t-shirt, he took a hungry bite out of the remaining piece of fruit. Despite its outward appearance, the apple was crisp and sweet, so sweet it made his teeth ache. It was the first thing he'd eaten in almost two days.

He took another bite, forcing himself to chew slowly, appreciating the taste and texture of the pulp on his tongue. He thought fleetingly of how good a peanut butter and jelly sandwich would be with his meager lunch. But food cost money, and money was something he didn't have; something he'd never thought he'd need.

Paris leaned heavily against the alley wall, shifting uncomfortably. _Expect the unexpected. _A first year lesson every Academy cadet learned. And he'd learned it well. _Expect the unbelievable. _He'd learned that one _too _well. Images of Caldik Prime still haunted his dreams. But this... He looked around at the deserted alley: the overflowing crates of garbage, the rotting cardboard boxes, the shallow puddles of stagnate water. And again, the helpless feeling rose inside of him, the shaking, uncontrollable fear - the unbelievable realization that he was a twenty-fourth century starship pilot stranded on a twentieth century world.

But he wasn't alone. And he remembered that as he took another bite of the apple. He had to get back to Chakotay. He'd left him by himself for far too long.

Paris shoved the half-eaten apple into the bag with the other fruit, pushed himself to his feet, and started down the alley. He didn't like having to leave the first officer by himself, but when Paris was looking for food, or stealing food, as was often the case, he couldn't bring Chakotay with him. The commander was too noticeable, too awkward and clumsy; he didn't understand what was going on, and he invariably drew unwanted attention.

_But he can't help it, _Paris reminded himself as he picked his way around a trash dumpster and then scaled a chain-link fence. The head injury Chakotay had sustained when their shuttle went down had been fairly severe; there was still swelling along the back of his skull. With his limited medical knowledge, Paris had treated him as best he could, and although the tricorder reassured him that the first officer wasn't in any immediate danger, the damage had been done. His memory and mental abilities had been affected, and he was very much like a child. _An innocent, awkward kid, _Paris sighed as he dropped to the ground on the other side of the fence. He still wished he could take him to a hospital, but he was reluctant to take the risk. On this world, they were vagrants, with no form of identification. And from what Paris had been able to piece together from observation and experience, vagrants were barely tolerated. He wasn't even sure if a medical facility would admit them.

The shuttle had gone down in a densely wooded area ten miles from town. Paris had barely had time to pull Chakotay from the wreckage and retrieve the emergency medical kit, phasers, and some survival gear before the circuitry caught fire. He'd tried to put it out, but the fire ran along the interior of the hull and, in the end, all he could do was watch as the craft went up in flames. Watch, and pray that the thick black smoke didn't alert anyone to their presence on the planet. They'd stayed in the woods a couple of days, away from the crash site, but eventually they'd made their way into the town, and they'd been there for over a week.

The planet was called Vaiden, and it was remarkably similar to twentieth century Earth. The town, Dormond, wasn't large. Paris estimated a population of about thirty thousand. It was just big enough to get lost in, and that was good. Paris had no intention of them being found by the local authorities. He just wished that _Voyager _would find them. But as the days went by, he was beginning to worry. Thoughts of Harry Kim's experience with the time rift concerned Paris. If they'd encountered something similar, they might never be found.

But he couldn't dwell on that now. He cut down another alley, and across a street, and then back behind a row of buildings until he reached a residential neighborhood, small houses that bordered along a park. On the opposite edge of the park was a wooded area. Several homeless people had devised shelters there, makeshift housing the size of cardboard boxes. And Paris had felt that they might be safe there as well. Despite the proximity to the park, no one had demanded that they leave. He'd found an old plastic tarp and had used it to make a small tent, barely big enough for the two of them. But it was home.

When he reached the tent, he dropped down to his knees. "Chakotay, I found us some lunch," he said, drawing back the corner of the tarp and peering inside. The tent was empty. "Damn," he muttered, releasing the tent flap with a frustrated jerk of his hand. He sat back on his heels. He'd halfway been expecting this. So far, Chakotay had been too frightened to venture out on his own, and the few times that Paris had left him here alone, he'd stayed put. But he was gone now.

Paris sighed and pushed himself to his feet. At least he knew where to look first. Chakotay was intrigued by the park; he liked to watch the people, the ballgames in the field, the children on the play equipment. And he usually observed quietly enough, but although the people on Vaiden were humanoid, they were smaller than the big Native American and none of them had tattoos over their left eyes.

Paris went back to the edge of the park and stared across the field. He didn't see him, but there were several benches on the opposite side, and he hoped that Chakotay was sitting on one of them. He jogged across the playing field. There were no games this morning. Most of the people in Dormond were at work at this time of day, and the older children would be at school. He did notice some mothers with babies and toddlers and there was the man who sold ice cream and hot dogs. Paris' mouth had watered on several occasions as he'd passed his food cart. But there was still no sign of Chakotay.

"Damn, damn, damn," Paris muttered to himself, shaking his head, his hands on his hips.

"Hey, there," the food vendor called over to him, "have you lost someone?"

Paris walked closer to the man. He'd passed him several times in the past week, but they'd never spoken to each other.

"Just looking for a friend of mine," Paris said easily.

"Big guy, dark hair, funny lines over his eye?" the vendor asked.

Paris shrugged. "It's a...birthmark. But, yeah, that's him. Have you...seen him?"

The man nodded. "He was here earlier. Doesn't talk much, does he?"

"He's shy," Paris replied, hoping that Chakotay hadn't done anything unusual. "He, um...didn't cause any trouble...did he?"

"Oh, no." The man shook his head. "He just... He looked hungry. I gave him a hot dog. I hope that's all right?"

Paris smiled. "That's more than all right. Thank you. We... Well, we've fallen on hard times, so to speak."

"Think nothing of it." The man waved his hand toward the center of town. "He headed off that way," he offered. "I haven't seen him since. That was about half an hour ago."

Paris looked toward the business district and sighed. This was all he needed. He glanced back at the man. "Thank you," he nodded and then trotted off toward town.

~vVv~

His stomach growled, and he wished he hadn't eaten the hot dog so fast. But he couldn't help it. He was hungry, and the food was good. Now, he was still hungry, and the hot dog was gone. His stomach growled again. It hurt. It always hurt. A dull, constant ache. But not like the pain in his head. That only came every now and then, and it was so bad it made him cry.

He stopped in front of a window and pressed his fingers to the glass. Tom liked to look in windows. They looked in windows together, and Tom would always see something he wanted. But they couldn't get it because Tom said they didn't have any money. But the man had given him the hot dog, and Chakotay didn't have any money. He would have to tell Tom that he was wrong. You could get things without money. But maybe not things in windows.

He wished Tom were with him now. He'd tried to look for him, but he couldn't find him. The streets all looked the same. Once he'd thought he'd seen him, standing on a corner, but when Chakotay had reached him, and the man turned around, he saw that it wasn't Tom. He just looked like him.

Chakotay trailed his fingers along the window, and then walked further down the sidewalk. He wanted to go home. He was tired. Soon Tom would find him.

On the corner was a store that sold food. Tom called it fruit, Chakotay remembered. There were some things that he could remember, and other things that he couldn't. He remembered what Tom told him. But Tom had told him not to leave the tent, and he had anyway.

Chakotay stopped and looked at the fruit in front of the store. It was piled in crates and boxes, all different kinds and colors: yellow, green, red, orange. The red ones were his favorite. He reached out and picked up one of the round pieces of fruit. It was an apple; he knew that. He rubbed it against his shirt. Tom did that. It made the apple shiny. And then Chakotay bit into it.

"Hey, you! What do you think you're doing?" The voice was loud and it came from a short man who was walking out the door of the store.

Chakotay didn't say anything. He didn't like to talk to anyone except Tom.

"I asked you a question? That's my apple. You buy before you eat." The man held out his hand.

Money...he wanted money.

Chakotay held the apple out to the man, trying to give it back. The man pushed his hand away.

"You can't return it!" he bellowed, staring at him. "Just...get out of here. I'm tired of your kind hanging around."

Chakotay didn't move. He was scared. The man was yelling, and he didn't like it when people yelled.

"I said leave!" The man pushed at Chakotay's arm.

The apple fell from his hand, hit the sidewalk, and rolled into the street.

"Go on. Get outta here!"

The man pushed him again, and Chakotay stumbled back, almost losing his footing.

"Leave, damn it, before I call the constables!"

He started to push him again, but suddenly a man stepped between them, holding up his hands.

"Hey, hey...just hold on."

Chakotay blinked. It was Tom.

The man stood close to Paris, staring up into his face. "Look, if he's a friend of yours, just get him outta here."

"All right, all right, there's no need to push him." Paris stepped back and wrapped a hand around Chakotay's arm. "He just doesn't understand."

"Yeah, well, maybe you do. Fifty credits for the apple."

Paris dug into the bag hanging over his shoulder. He pulled out one of the apples he'd gotten earlier and extended it toward the man. "A fair trade," he offered.

The man looked at the scarred apple in Paris' hand. "Look...just forget it. Just...leave, all right?"

"All right." Paris took a step back, one hand still securely wrapped around Chakotay.

"And if I see either of you again, I'm callin' the constables," the man threatened, then pointed his finger toward Chakotay. "That one should be put away." He stepped forward, suddenly shouting louder. "Did you hear me? Put away!"

Terrified, Chakotay pulled away from Paris' grasp and started to run, blindly, tears blurring his vision. He had to get away, had to get home, had to... He rounded a corner, into an alley, and fell to his knees beside the wall, his chest heaving.

Paris ran after him and skidded to a halt at the entrance to the alley. "Chakotay, I told you to stay put," he said loudly, advancing toward the man. He knew he was frightened, but damn it, so was he. So frightened, he didn't realize how harsh his voice sounded.

Chakotay pressed himself against the wall and started to cry, and Paris realized what he'd just done. He'd yelled at him. He'd never yelled at him. He'd never even raised his voice. In the past week, he'd used nothing but calm, soothing tones. And now, Chakotay was huddled against the alley wall, one arm over his head, protecting himself from a blow that would never come, at least not from Paris. But Chakotay didn't know that. He was still so afraid of everything and everyone.

"Chakotay, I'm sorry." Paris knelt beside him, his voice almost a whisper now. He reached out, touched Chakotay's arm, drew it away from his face. Tears streaked the man's cheeks and frightened eyes looked out at him. "I won't hurt you. I'm sorry I yelled. But I was so scared when I couldn't find you."

"Hurt," Chakotay whimpered as he raised his hands and covered his ears.

"It's all right," Paris assured, the hand on Chakotay's arm moving up and massaging the back of his neck. He felt the tight, tense muscles relax under the gentle pressure of his fingers. The smooth skin was warm and clammy with gathered sweat and mingled tears. He pulled Chakotay into his arms, an easy, familiar reflex, one he'd perfected nightmare after nightmare. The dark head burrowed against his chest, and Chakotay's hand closed tightly around the collar of Paris' shirt. "Shh," Paris murmured as he gently rocked him. "You're all right, big guy. I'm here."

Long moments passed. The sobs that shook the broad shoulders gradually subsided, his breathing lapsing into shallow, wheezing gasps. Paris' own rapid heartbeat had returned to normal.

"I told you stay in the tent," he whispered, his arms gripping Chakotay tightly. "You have to do what I tell you, right?"

"Right," Chakotay answered, twisting in his grasp, suddenly feeling confined.

Paris felt the tension in his body and relaxed his hold. "Then why did you leave?"

"Looking...for you," Chakotay tried to explain, drawing in a long, unsteady breath.

"Yeah, well…next time do what I say." He glanced over his shoulder, half expecting to find the shop owner bearing down on them. But except for them, the alley was empty. "I was worried about you." He released his grasp on the man and sat back on his heels. He was still holding the apple in his hand, and he held it out toward him. "Here. Eat this."

Chakotay sighed, wiping the back of one hand over his eyes, and taking the apple with his other hand. He leaned back against the wall. Slowly, he rubbed the piece of fruit against his shirt and then took a bite.

Paris smiled tiredly at Chakotay's actions and collapsed against the wall beside him. Reaching into the cloth bag, he took out his own half-eaten apple. It wasn't much of a lunch, but it would have to do.

~vVv~


	2. Chapter 2

Kathryn Janeway didn't like it. She didn't like it at all. Chakotay and Paris were missing. And there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. At least, not anything that had worked so far.

She frowned at the information on her computer screen, then slapped her hand against the desk. _Damn it. _She shouldn't have let them go. The mission wasn't a dangerous one, but for some reason she'd felt uneasy about it. She didn't know why. They were orbiting a clouded planet whose atmospheric conditions prevented their sensors from a complete scan. They were fairly sure that there were no signs of humanoid life, but there was a possibility of finding needed minerals and edible vegetation. And Paris had suggested taking a shuttle down. Chakotay had agreed.

Janeway had never bargained on a smooth talking pilot, and a quietly insistent first officer, but in the months they'd been together, she'd learned how to listen to them, take their advice, and make informed decisions. Damn them for talking her into this one. And maybe that was it. _They_ had talked her into it. Chakotay and Paris. That alone was a welcome combination. It did her heart some good to watch the two of them together. Although past differences were fading away, there was still some friction between them. Maybe some time alone together in a shuttle, circling an unknown planet, would give them just what they needed: a chance for their friendship to strengthen and a little adventure. The past few weeks had actually been a bit boring up until now.

And so, Janeway had pushed her concerns to the back of her mind, and she'd let them go. Now, she regretted her decision. As soon as their shuttle entered the atmosphere, _Voyager _lost communication with them. That had been expected. When they'd failed to return on schedule, her concern had increased. She'd sent another shuttle down, and it returned with complete scans of the planet. Plenty of minerals and vegetation, no indication of humanoid life. And no sign of Chakotay and Paris' shuttle.

Janeway hit her desk again in frustration. She didn't even know where to begin.

~vVv~

He'd grown used to the rain on the tent, the wind that blew through the trees, the thunder that rumbled around them, the flashes of lightning that pierced the sky. And so, in the middle of the wet, black night, it wasn't the storm that woke him.

Turning over in his sleeping bag, Tom Paris opened his eyes. No, the sound that had pulled him from a deep sleep, a sleep filled with dreams of home, came from the man who lay just a few feet away from him. Paris fumbled in the darkness for the matches and lit the stub of a candle that sat on a wooden crate. In the dim light, brown, tear-filled eyes stared back at him from the other sleeping bag.

Paris gave the frightened man a warm smile and extended an arm toward him. "It's all right," he whispered, his hand touching Chakotay's cheek, gently brushing his tears away. "It's just a storm. It'll pass. They always do."

But they never passed fast enough, never came and went without waking Chakotay, without terrifying him.

"Shh. Go back to sleep. I'm right here."

Chakotay swallowed convulsively, a ragged sob escaping his throat, his chest shuddering. Paris noticed that the fingers clutching the top of the sleeping bag were clenched, almost white with pressure.

"You can sleep next to me, Chakotay," Paris offered, carefully pushing the crate out of the way, clearing the foot of space between them. He reached over and took hold of the sleeping bag and pulled Chakotay closer to him.

He didn't protest. Instead, he grew calmer, his breathing became slower and easier. He curled toward Paris and burrowed his head into the younger man's shoulder.

"There we go," Paris soothed, wrapping an arm around him, rubbing his hand gently over Chakotay's trembling back. "You're all right."

Leaning over, Paris blew out the candle. In the darkness, Chakotay moved closer to him. Tenderly, Paris ran his hand up over Chakotay's neck, along the base of his skull. The swelling was still there, although it had gone down some in just the past few days. He felt the man flinch. "Sorry, Chakotay," he whispered, returning his hand to the first officer's back, continuing the rubbing motion. "Go to sleep now, big guy."

Long minutes passed, and Chakotay's breathing steadied into a familiar sleep pattern. But Paris stayed awake for a long time, listening to the rain on the tent, and the wind, and the thunder.

~vVv~

Janeway looked up from her computer at the sound of the door chime. "Come in," she called, tucking a strand of hair away from her forehead.

Her ready room door slid open and B'Elanna Torres stepped inside. Janeway managed a halfway convincing smile and indicated the seat in front of her desk. "B'Elanna, please, sit down."

The engineer paced slowly over to the chair and sank into it, but Janeway noticed that her spine remained stiff and straight. It had only been three days, but Chakotay and Paris' disappearance had the entire crew wound tight with worry and tension. Perhaps Torres most of all. Chakotay was her commander, her mentor, and, Janeway suspected, the best friend she had on _Voyager. _After eight months, Janeway considered him a friend as well. Both of them. Chakotay and Paris. Valuable to the ship and her crew in ways she couldn't even begin to describe.

With a sigh, she settled her gaze on Torres. "Any new developments?" she asked, knowing the answer already. If they'd discovered anything new, they would have told her.

Torres shook her head. "No, Captain. Harry's setting up a temporal scan in Engineering right now. If there are any time rifts or hidden wormholes, the scan should be able to identify them. But...it'll take at least another hour before the scan is configured to the planet's rotation and gravitational pull. Even then, we may have to take another shuttle down in order to obtain the best results."

Janeway's eyes narrowed at the possibility. She didn't like the idea of sending another shuttle into the planet's atmosphere. For all her twenty years in Starfleet, she never did like pushing her luck. And she hated losing crew members.

She nodded her head in acceptance of Torres' words, then fixed the young woman with a steady gaze. "How are you, B'Elanna?"

Torres pulled back slightly, as if surprised by the captain's words. Surprised and embarrassed. She was worried about Chakotay and Paris, but she hadn't thought that her concern was noticeable. She'd been so busy with running tests and sifting through data, that her feelings and her anger had been pushed aside. Almost. There was a vase in her quarters that still lay shattered across the deck.

"I'm...all right, Captain. Thank you. It's not the first time we've lost him," she said, referring to the commander.

Janeway thought of the events of the month before, Seska and Cullah. "At least when the Kazon had him, we knew where he was," she said, keeping her voice steady .

Torres shook her head. "I wasn't thinking of that." Janeway gave her a curious look, and the engineer continued. "We...lost him once on the Maquis ship. Ten days. A lot longer than this. But, we knew where he was that time, too."

"Cardassians," Janeway breathed.

And Torres nodded. "We were damn lucky to get him back." She was silent for a moment, reliving that time two years ago. She could almost see him, crumpled naked and beaten on the transporter padd. It had taken him weeks to physically recover. And there were still times when Torres saw something in his eyes that made her wonder if he had ever recovered emotionally. "He never told me much about those days. But...he remembers." She drew in a deep breath, and then stared down at the top of the captain's desk. _Shut up, B'Elanna, _she chided herself silently. _Keep the man's secrets. _Not that she knew many of them, but still, what was she doing sitting here sharing her feelings with Janeway?

The captain noticed the change in Torres' body language, and she didn't press. "Well, hopefully it won't take us ten days to find them. I'm sure you and Harry will discover something soon."

Torres looked up, her eyes wide, as if remembering why she'd come to the ready room in the first place. "Captain, if it is necessary for us to take a shuttle down, I'd like to be on it."

It wasn't a request or a demand, just a simple statement. But Janeway could see that Torres was firm in her resolution.

"Harry can remain here, to analyze the data that the shuttle sends back, but..." Torres' voice trailed off.

And Janeway understood. Being in that shuttle would place her just a little bit closer to Chakotay. Or at least, it would seem that way. The captain tapped her fingers against her desk. "All right, Lieutenant. Only if it's necessary."

The hard expression on Torres' face softened, and she rose to her feet. "Thank you, Captain."

Janeway smiled slightly. "You're welcome." Torres turned and strode toward the door. "B'Elanna?"

The captain's voice stopped her; she glanced back over her shoulder. Janeway was standing now, leaning forward, her palms flat against her desktop. "We will find them," she promised.

And Torres hoped it was a promise the captain could keep.

~vVv~


	3. Chapter 3

Mornings always seemed brighter after a rainstorm. Brighter and wetter, Paris realized as he shifted in his sleeping bag. They were supposed to be waterproof, but somehow the dampness seemed to find its way inside.

"Damn," he muttered. They were wearing the only clothes they owned, except for their grey turtlenecks and uniform jackets.

Next to him, Chakotay's eyes snapped open and he breathed in a strangled gasp, as if surprised to find himself awake.

"Shh, hey...it's all right." Paris reached over and clamped a hand on the man's shoulder. "It's morning."

Chakotay turned his face toward Paris, and a slow grin of relief spread over it. "Morning?" he whispered. "Breakfast?"

Paris shook his head as he worked his way out of his sleeping bag. He was beginning to think that all the first officer thought of was food, but he had to admit that he was hungry, too. They'd each had a banana the night before for supper, and now there was one banana left. Paris leaned over and retrieved the cloth bag, pulling the yellow fruit out of it.

"Here, you eat this," he suggested, offering the banana to Chakotay.

The older man sat up in his sleeping bag and eagerly accepted the banana, his fingers pulling at the top of it, stripping the skin down around it. He liked the red ones better, but he was hungry and the yellow ones were good, too.

Paris reached over and stuck a hand into Chakotay's sleeping bag, checking to see if the rain had found its way in there as well. Luckily, it was dry.

"I think I've been sleeping in a flood zone," Paris laughed, unzipping his bag and turning it inside out to dry.

Chakotay just stared at him. Half the time, Paris was sure he didn't understand what he was saying.

The first officer took another bite of the banana, and then held it out toward Paris. "You…eat?"

Paris smiled. Even injured, Chakotay had a sense of fairness and honor. He reached over, broke off a bite of the banana, and popped it into his mouth. "Thanks," he mumbled as he chewed the fruit.

Chakotay returned his smile, and was lifting the banana back to his own mouth when he gasped again, his face creasing into lines of pain. His hand went lax and the banana fell from his fingers onto the sleeping bag.

"Chakotay?" Paris scooted closer to him.

And then Chakotay screamed, his hands clutching the sides of his head, tears gathering instantly in his eyes.

"Chakotay." Paris grabbed the first aid kit, already knowing what he would find. Nothing. He'd used the last of the pain suppressant the day before during another attack. But instinctively, he searched the kit again. It was no use. There was nothing left that would be helpful. He wrapped his arms around the man, pulling his head down against his chest, rubbing the dark hair, hoping the pressure would ease the pain. "I've got you," he murmured, rocking Chakotay in his arms. "Shh, it's all right."

But it wasn't all right. Paris knew that. The attacks only came once or twice a day, but the intensity of them had not lessened in the past week. The injury to Chakotay's head was serious, and now that they were out of medication, Paris knew he would have to find a medical facility that would admit them. It was a risk he hadn't wanted to take, hoping that _Voyager _would have found them before the pain suppressant ran out. But time had run out instead.

"Shh, I'm here." He continued to rock him, hoping the motion would ease his suffering.

But it didn't. And Chakotay cried for almost a half hour before he fell into an exhausted sleep.

~vVv~

The sun was high in the sky by the time Chakotay awoke. Almost noon, Paris estimated. And despite his worry over the first officer, and his efforts to ignore it, his stomach was grumbling with hunger. They needed more food, but he hadn't wanted to leave Chakotay alone. Especially after yesterday. Maybe, on their way to the medical facility, they would find something.

Paris sighed as he gazed across the now cold campfire. Chakotay sat there, staring back at him, an expectant look on his face. Paris had made his decision while the man slept. He had to have medical attention. They would have to take that risk. But something else was bothering the pilot. Some part of him felt that by actually taking that risk, he would be admitting that help from _Voyager _would never come. As Tuvok would say, it was illogical. Paris knew that, could almost hear the stoic Vulcan state the obvious. Still, it was what he felt. But that pang of...acceptance, failure, whatever...was nothing compared to the pain that Chakotay experienced when the pressure against his brain became too great.

And Paris wondered if he'd waited too long. If he'd taken him sooner, would this world's physicians have been able to heal him? Paris had surreptitiously scanned a shop owner with the tricorder when his back was turned. And although their physiology was similar, it wasn't exact. What if this world's medical instruments were sophisticated enough to detect that small differences in Chakotay's bio-molecular makeup? What then? Would they be identified for what they really were...aliens, now separated from their own world by time and distance?

Too many questions and not enough answers.

Paris pushed himself to his feet and extended a hand toward Chakotay. "Come on. Let's take a walk." The older man took the offered hand, and Paris pulled him up, patting him on the shoulder. "Maybe we can find some lunch."

Chakotay nodded. He was always hungry.

~vVv~

It didn't look too bad, Paris reasoned as he scanned the building from his vantage point on the opposite side of the street. White brick, windows, chrome. Fairly modern for this world. The sidewalk in front of the medical facility was busy. People coming and going. It was more like a clinic than an actual hospital. But there would be doctors, and that's what Chakotay needed.

He glanced over at the man, sitting on a low stone wall beside the sidewalk. He looked decidedly bored and a little outdone. He was hungry. Paris knew that. They both were. And they'd been unable to find anything between here and the park. The hot dog vendor had been nowhere in sight, and it was too early for restaurants to start putting out leftover food in the alleyways. As for pilfering from fruit stands, well, they'd learned their lesson yesterday. Paris thought he'd give up on that avenue for a while.

There were no homeless shelters in Dormond. No soup kitchens or religious groups that catered to the poor. This was all due to the fact that the homeless...the vagrants...were so very close to breaking the city's laws. People were expected to work. But Paris knew there was no way he could even consider working. He had nothing against hard labor; he'd done his share of it before. But what would he do with Chakotay during the time that he 'd be away? The man looked up at him, and Paris smiled. No. They were in this together, and they'd stay together.

Chakotay grimaced slightly and rubbed his hand over the back of his head. Paris knew the area was still sensitive.

"Come on, Chakotay. Let's go take care of that headache." He took him by the arm, hauled him to his feet, and headed across the street.

They weren't as well dressed as the other people entering the clinic. Both of them still wore their black uniform trousers, Paris his black t-shirt, and Chakotay his grey turtleneck. Paris had "borrowed" some vests from a used clothing store, and Chakotay was wearing a beige one. He'd left his dark green one in the tent.

Paris pushed his way into the lobby of the clinic, Chakotay trailing after him. There were chairs lined up along the walls, a half a dozen people seated in them. He went over to the reception desk, and a young woman looked up from a notepad.

"May I help you?" she asked with a warm smile.

And Paris felt himself relax a bit. "I hope so," he smiled back. "My friend here needs to see a doctor."

The woman stared over Paris' shoulder at Chakotay. "And what is your friend's problem?"

Paris had already devised a story. "We're...ah, roofers, and, unfortunately, Jack here slipped yesterday and..." Paris shrugged, "fell off a house we were working on. Knocked his head pretty hard. You know, we sort of laughed about it at the time, but today, he's a little groggy. Still has a headache. "

"Did he lose consciousness?" she inquired.

"Uh, no, I mean...if he'd passed out, I would have brought him sooner."

"Yes, of course you would have." She handed Paris a form. "If you could feel this out, I'll put..." Again she looked at Chakotay. "I'll put Mister..."

"Mister Kotay," Paris supplied.

"I'll put Mister Kotay on our patient list. It might be a half hour before a doctor can see you."

"That's fine," Paris replied, giving her another smile. He pushed Chakotay over to the chairs and they both sat.

_Well, so far so good,_ Paris thought looking down at the form he held. He could lie on the questions and just hope that it wasn't their policy to actually check the information. He put pencil to paper and proceeded to fabricate a medical history for Jack Kotay.

~vVv~


	4. Chapter 4

Janeway stared across the conference table at Harry Kim as he shared their latest findings.

"It's difficult to explain, Captain, and I'm not sure I completely understand it, but it seems to be some kind of temporal shielding."

"Temporal shielding?"

Torres nodded and continued with the briefing. "It's as if they've found a way to shield _when_ they are in space versus _where_ they are. But the shield isn't complete. There are pockets…windows of unshielded atmosphere."

"So there are people down there?"

"Two point three million, to be exact," Tuvok stated. "We have detected three large continents and several smaller islands. All landmasses contain humanoid life-forms."

"Have you been able to detect Tom and Chakotay?"

Tuvok shook his head. "Not from this distance. But I believe we can take a shuttle through one of these…windows and run more detailed scans."

Janeway glanced back to Torres, who was now sitting on the edge of her seat, leaning forward. And she nodded at her. "All right. Tuvok, you and B'Elanna can take a shuttle into the atmosphere. But just to take closer scans. Even if you do detect their life signs, you are not to transport them yet. We don't know what the situation is on that planet. And despite their sophisticated level of shielding, we don't know if they're responsible for it. The last thing we want to do is cause two people to disappear in front of someone's eyes, especially if their society isn't familiar with molecular transport."

~vVv~

At that particular moment, the situation in the clinic wasn't looking good for Paris and Chakotay. They'd waited for over a half hour before Chakotay was called back to an examining room, and, at first, the nurse wasn't going to let Paris accompany him. But when she saw the older man's reaction, she relented. Chakotay wasn't about to go anywhere without Tom. He held tightly to the younger man's hand, keeping his body behind his, unwilling to go alone.

"He's shy," Paris said, as he followed the nurse down a short hall. But he knew she wasn't buying his feeble explanation. It was apparent that there was more wrong with Chakotay than just a simple bump on the head.

"The doctor will be right with you," she replied with a nervous smile before leaving them in the small room.

Paris looked around. There was a paper-covered examining table and a chair. He patted the end of the table. "You sit here, Chakotay," he said gently, holding his arm as he positioned himself on the edge. He still hadn't let go of his hand, so he simply stood next to him.

A few minutes later, an older gray-haired man came through the door. He looked directly at Chakotay and addressed him, "Mister Kotay, I'm Doctor Dayson Kell. I understand you've taken quite a fall."

Chakotay pulled back, his eyes darting toward Tom. He knew the man wanted some kind of response, but he didn't know what to say.

Paris stuck his hand out in greeting. "I'm Jack's friend, Tom Paris," he introduced himself, and the doctor shook his hand. "Jack is…very shy. He doesn't talk much."

The doctor nodded, taking in Paris' words and turning them over in his mind. "Has he always been shy? Or does his head injury have anything to do with his behavior?" he asked, glancing at the chart he held in his other hand.

Paris suppressed a sigh, realizing the nurse must have described Chakotay's reactions in the waiting room. "He's always been shy. We…grew up together. Even as a kid, he never had much to say."

"I see." He stepped toward the examining table, and Chakotay pulled back slightly. The doctor shifted his eyes in Paris' direction. "Will he allow me to examine him?"

"Yeah, sure." He turned toward Chakotay. "It's all right, Jack. The doctor's just going to check out your head. Where you hit it…when you fell the other day." He tightened his hold on Chakotay's hand.

The doctor moved closer, and Chakotay allowed him to touch him, his fingers pressing along his neck and over the back of his head.

Kell frowned as his fingers ran over the bump at the base of his skull. "There's definitely some swelling there." He looked down at the chart again. "You say he's been having severe headaches."

"Several times a day… They're pretty bad."

The doctor studied the chart for a few more moments, then looked up. "He's going to need some alphascans."

Paris wasn't sure what those were, but he figured they were something akin to old-fashioned radiographs. He nodded. "We appreciate that, but, I have to let you know, Doc, we don't have a lot of currency."

The older man shook his head. "You don't need to worry about currency here. We're a free clinic - one of the few in Dormond. But, unfortunately, we don't have the necessary equipment. He'll have to go to a hospital for alphascans. I can give you a medical voucher. They won't charge you anything."

It was getting more complicated, more drawn out, and it was making Paris nervous. "Thanks, but maybe I'll just take him home. See if he gets better in a few days."

The doctor sighed. "I don't suggest you do that. I suspect Mister Kotay has subdural bleeding. If he does, and if it goes untreated, he'll die."

~vVv~


	5. Chapter 5

He clutched the voucher in his hand and stared at the building before him. It looked like something out of the mid-twentieth century – more like an institution than a hospital: old, gray, rundown – in need of repair. It was surrounded by chain-link fences and overgrown bushes. Definitely not the welcoming manicured lawns of Starfleet Medical.

He glanced over at Chakotay, and he could tell that his headache was getting worse. Lines of pain were etched on his face, and there were tears in his eyes. He reached over and rubbed his hand along the back of the older man's neck. "We'll get you some help," he promised, then reached down and took Chakotay's hand in his. "Come on," he said, mustering more confidence than he felt.

He pushed open the rusted gate and headed up the walkway. After climbing the cracked cement stairs to the front door, he pushed it open. Beyond, the lobby was cool, dark, and cavernous. Green and white tiles covered the floor, and the walls were painted a pale gray. There was a row of chairs and benches to one side and opposite them was a reception desk. Only a few people dotted the waiting area, and there was only one person behind the desk. Strengthening his hold on Chakotay's hand, Paris approached the desk area.

He dropped the voucher on the counter and pushed it forward as the woman looked up at him.

"A doctor at the clinic gave me this. He says my friend needs alphascans."

The woman picked up the piece of paper and studied it. "I see you got this from Doctor Kell," she said, her words somewhat hard.

Paris instantly bristled at her tone. "Is there a problem with that?"

"No," she answered quickly, her voice softening. "I'll just contact Doctor Kinton." She glanced up at Chakotay who stood slightly behind Paris. "You and…" She looked back at the voucher. "You and Mister Kotay can take a seat over there." She nodded toward the waiting area.

"Thanks," Paris replied, trying to relax. Getting angry wouldn't help the situation. He turned and led Chakotay over to one of the benches, pulling him down to sit beside him. Chakotay sighed and leaned against his shoulder, his hand tightening around Paris' fingers. "Just hang on, big guy," Paris murmured.

Luckily, they didn't have to wait for long. Within a few minutes, a man in a white uniform approached them. Paris assumed he was some kind of assistant or orderly.

"Doctor Kinton can see your friend now," he said, gesturing toward a door on the other side of the lobby.

Paris stood and pulled Chakotay up next to him, followed the man as he crossed over to the door. The man held the door open and Paris was relieved when he allowed them both to go in.

"Second door on the right," the orderly directed, and Paris walked ahead of them, pushed the door open. It was another small examining room, much like the one at the clinic. "The doctor will be right with you." And the orderly left them.

Again, as he had at the clinic, Paris helped Chakotay sit on the end of the examining table, and then stood next to him while they waited.

Moments later, the door opened and a doctor stepped in. He was younger than Doctor Kell – perhaps in his early forties, and he wore glasses that sat perched on the end of his nose. "I'm Doctor Aram Kinton," he introduced himself, then glanced down at the clipboard in his hand. "And according to the voucher, your friend here is Jack Kotay."

Paris nodded. "Yes, and I'm Tom Paris. Jack fell at work yesterday and hit his head pretty hard. We went to the clinic and Doctor Kell said that he'd probably need alphascans."

"Umm-um," the doctor sighed, agreeing with Paris. "Kell's a good doctor. From his notes, I concur. There's more than likely some internal bleeding which may have caused some further damage." He looked down at the clipboard again. "Your friend's rather quiet."

"He's shy," Paris said quickly. "Always has been."

The doctor looked up and focused his attention directly at Paris. "I have to tell you now, Mister Paris, if his head injury has caused permanent psychological damage, I'll have to inform the constables."

Paris instinctively stepped forward, placing himself in between the doctor and Chakotay. "What?"

"Surely, you're familiar with city ordinances. For the safety of all citizens, Mister Kotay included, individuals with mental incapacity must be hospitalized."

"He's not mentally incompetent," Paris started, his voice growing louder despite his effort to control his emotions. "He's just-"

"Shy," the doctor supplied, then pressed his lips tightly together.

At that moment, Paris felt trapped, torn. Chakotay needed help, but he didn't need to be "hospitalized," which seemed to be a nice euphemism for locked up and throw away the key. And he made a split decision; they'd just have to wait for _Voyager_ to find them.

"Look, we appreciate your help, but I think Jack and I better get going." Paris tugged Chakotay's hand. "Let's go," he said firmly, heading around the doctor toward the door.

Chakotay moved off the examining table and followed him.

The doctor turned. "I can't allow you take him until I've finished my examination."

"Like I said, thanks but no thanks," Paris replied as he opened the door and pulled Chakotay into the hall, heading toward the waiting room. He didn't notice Kinton touch a button on the wall next to the door. If he had, he might have started running, but they wouldn't have gotten very far. When he reached the waiting room, there were already two burly security men blocking the exit door.

He turned back around, faced Kinton. "Look, just let me take him home. He'll be fine."

"Mister Paris, your friend needs help. Let me help him." He nodded toward one of the security men. "Tollison, if you'll take Mister Kotay back to the examining room."

Chakotay cried out when the man touched him, although he didn't grab him roughly. He simply closed his hands around Chakotay's upper arms and pulled him away from Paris.

"No!" Paris shouted, reaching toward Chakotay, only to be held back by the other guard.

"He won't be hurt. And he'll receive the care that he needs," Kinton continued. "Once I've examined him and gotten him settled in the ward, you can visit – after the ten-day observation period."

"Tom!" Chakotay's eyes were wide and he struggled in the guard's grasp.

"Let him go!" Paris demanded. "Can't you see he's scared?" And so was he. He strained against the vice-like hands that held him.

"I can assure you, that after my examination, we'll give Mister Kotay something to help him relax and keep him calm." Kinton nodded toward the guard who held Chakotay. "Take our patient back to the examining room."

"Tom!" Chakotay wailed again as the guard dragged him back toward the door leading to the exam rooms. Tears were trailing down his cheeks, his eyes filled with terror. "Tom!"

"Please!" Tom pulled at the guard's arms. "Let me stay with him." He cast his eyes toward Kinton, but the man shook his head.

"You can return after the observation period. But if Mister Kotay's injury has caused mental impairment, then he'll have to remain with us on a permanent basis." As the guard pushed past Kinton with Chakotay in tow, the doctor placed a hand on the frightened man's shoulder. "I can assure you, Mister Paris, he won't be alone. Unfortunately, we have several patients on our mental ward."

"No!" Paris shouted again as the doctor, the guard, and Chakotay disappeared behind the door. He could still hear the first officer's anguished cries. Again, he pulled at the hands that held him. "Let me go!"

But the guard held on and pushed him toward the front door. "Let me just see you out," he said harshly, dragging him through the door and down the cement steps and cracked walkway. When he reached the chain-link gate, he roughly pushed Paris out into the street, causing him to fall hard, his forehead hitting the pavement.

The guard closed the gate behind him. "And I suggest you not come back until ten days have passed – and only if you're ready to follow city ordinances. If not, I'm sure the constables can find room for you in the holding bank."

And then he was gone, turning and walking briskly back into the building.

Paris lay face down on the street, could feel the dirt and grit on his face and in his mouth. Slowly, he pushed himself to a sitting position, blood dripping from the scrape on his forehead. He stared at the forbidding hospital before him, silently cursing himself. He rubbed at the angry and frightened tears gathering in his eyes. He'd lost him – all he'd wanted to do was keep him safe, and he'd lost Chakotay. What in the hell did he do now?


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading and reviewing!

It should have been simple enough – take a shuttle into the atmosphere, scan for Paris and Chakotay, locate them, determine that they were alone, advise the captain, and then get them the hell out of there.

Things were never that simple.

Unfortunately, the temporal shielding seemed to be serving its purpose overall. The planet was fairly well protected, and the windows of unshielded atmosphere weren't as prevalent as they'd hoped.

It took Tuvok and Torres six hours before they were able to complete their preliminary scans.

And the results were less than satisfying.

Torres grimaced as she reported their findings to Janeway, who shook her head in disbelief. "So you're saying that we can't tell the difference between Tom and Chakotay and the other two point three million humanoids on that planet?"

Tuvok lifted and eyebrow slightly. "That is precisely what the lieutenant is saying."

And Janeway leaned back in her chair and rubbed a hand over her eyes.

"If I may speak, Captain?"

She looked over at Kim on the other side of the conference table. "Of course, Harry. Do you have anything more positive to add?"

"Well," he shifted his gaze toward Torres, "B'Elanna and Tuvok only went to the perimeter of one of the temporal windows."

Janeway nodded. At the last minute, she'd instructed them not to enter fully into the atmosphere. She didn't like the idea of one of those "windows" closing suddenly with more of her crew inside. And she knew what Kim was going to say. "We need to go further in?"

"Yes, Captain. If we could get close enough, our sensors may be able to detect physiological differences between the inhabitants and Tom and Chakotay. We've already scanned for evidence of the shuttle, and we're not finding any Federation signatures."

Janeway sighed, lowered her eyes to the tabletop. "We've been… assuming that Tom and Chakotay are still alive. For all we know, their shuttle could have disintegrated within the atmosphere. In that case, it would be almost impossible to find any traces of debris or…" Her voice trailed off; she didn't like thinking of the alternative.

"Captain, we need to take a shuttle as far into the atmosphere as possible," Kim's voice held a tinge of desperation.

She shifted her gaze to Tuvok, looking for his advice as well as his calm, unspoken strength. It was all there in his eyes – not that many people would have seen it. But after all their years together, she'd learned how to read his silences. He nodded slightly, and that was enough for her.

"All right. You can return. This time Tuvok and Harry."

"Captain?!" Torres was half out of her seat.

She shook her head. "If we have to figure out a way to pull our shuttle through a temporal gap, I want you here, B'Elanna."

And with a nod of her head, Torres settled back into her chair. Janeway was right.

~vVv~

It had started to rain not long after he'd been ejected from the hospital. For over an hour, he'd stood under the overhang of an office building across the street, but it was getting late, workers were leaving, and the security guard at the front entrance was giving him hard glares every time he stepped outside. Paris would have to go soon – go or do something. But he didn't know what to do.

He rubbed at his forehead again, felt a bump forming where his skin had scraped against the pavement. The bleeding had stopped, but his head hurt. Great! That was all he needed – his own head injury. Maybe he and Chakotay could be institutionalized together. That would solve all their problems. They could let the charitable city of Dormond take care of them for the rest of their lives! And Paris sighed, hit his fist against the palm of his hand. His thoughts were rambling, he was cold, and he was hungry.

And he was scared.

The front door of the office building swung open and the security guard appeared. "Can I help you?" he finally asked. All the other times, he hadn't spoken, just looked at him with disdain. And now the tone of his words wasn't exactly kind, just brusque.

Paris looked up. "No," he murmured.

"In that case, you need to move on." The guard's voice was firm, brooking no arguments.

And Paris didn't give him any. He simply pushed away from the wall he was leaning against and headed out into the rain.

He went in the direction of the park, toward home – their tarp-covered cardboard box. On the way, he'd find something to eat, and then he'd get some rest – he'd be able to think better after a little food and sleep. Maybe he could go back to the clinic – maybe Doctor Kell would know some way of getting Chakotay out of that place, maybe…

Thunder rumbled overhead, lightning flashed, and the rain poured down harder, soaking his clothing. By the time he reached the outskirts of the park, he was shivering, and he'd found nothing to eat. When he rounded the bushes that half hid their small camp from the park, he pulled up short. It was gone – the tent, their sleeping bags, their camp – home. He could see several washed-out tracks in the mud – traces of people who had stolen what little they had. The overturned crate was still there, but they'd even taken the small candle. And Paris felt his shivering intensify – by the time he sank onto the crate, he was shaking – from the cold, the rain, and the gasping sobs that he couldn't control.

~vVv~


	7. Chapter 7

He waited in the alley until they put out the trash, hoping that there would be leftovers that might be kept separate. Sometimes the restaurants did that – bread or cheese, at times there was fruit. But tonight, because of the rain, the workers were in a hurry to dispose of the garbage, so there wasn't any care taken with how or what they threw out. Once the back door was closed, Paris hurried over to the dumpster and peered inside. Nothing looked edible. And at this point, with the rain and the cold, he wasn't very hungry anyway.

And besides, he was too worried to eat – even though the voice in his head kept telling him he had to keep up his strength, had to find food and shelter, take care of himself so he could get Chakotay back and take care of him.

So far that plan wasn't working.

He pushed back into the corner of the alley, close to the wall and the overhang of the roof. His head still hurt, and he felt achy, like he was sick. He held a hand to his forehead, thought he felt warm even though he was still shivering from the cold. He sighed and clenched his hands into fists, squeezed his eyes shut. It was turning out to be one hell of a day: he'd failed Chakotay, lost his home, and now he was getting a fever.

With a heavy sigh, he tried to get comfortable. Maybe, if he could sleep, things would be better in the morning. They had to be. He couldn't imagine them getting any worse.

~vVv~

This time, they were lucky. It only took Tuvok and Kim a little over an hour to find an open window in the temporal shielding. Once they determined that is was fairly stable, they contacted the captain and informed her that they were entering the atmosphere. There was a possibility that they wouldn't be able to maintain communications with the ship once they were in a closer orbit, so the captain directed them to proceed with caution and use their own discretion when and if they found their missing crew members.

Kim had exchanged a questioning glance with Tuvok when Janeway had given that directive. Hell, if they were able to isolate Tom's and Chakotay's life signs from that of the other two point three million people on the planet, he wasn't sure just how discrete he could be.

~vVv~

His eyes were open; he knew that. And still, he had to be dreaming. Or hallucinating. That was it. He was seeing things. His fever had continued to rise throughout the night, and now his mind was playing tricks on him.

The shimmering outlines at the far end of the alley couldn't be people. This world had no transporter capability. He blinked his eyes several times and then closed them, huddling closer to the cold, brick wall. He shivered, pulling his arms into the sleeves of his t-shirt, wrapping them around his chest, trying to conserve his body heat.

The sound of the steps grew closer and then stopped very near to him. He knew he could be seen; he knew he wasn't hidden, but still he didn't move, scarcely breathed, his eyes tightly closed.

"Tom?"

Paris' eyes snapped open. The man leaning over him was familiar. "Harry?"

Kim closed a hand around his friend's shoulder. "It's me, Tom. And Tuvok."

A taller, thinner man stepped closer. A hat was pulled down over his head, covering the tops of his ears. Both men wore civilian clothes, plain trousers and shirts in grey and dark green.

"Harry..." Paris' voice broke and he felt tears on his cheeks. But he didn't care. "Harry." He leaned forward, and Kim pulled him into his shoulder.

"You're all right, Tom. It's all right."

Tuvok tapped his communicator and was pleased when his hail was acknowledged, although the communication wasn't perfectly clear as static laced the transmission.

"Janeway here."

He glanced over at Kim, who held the pilot in his arms. "Captain, we have located Lieutenant Paris."

There was a pause, almost as if Janeway were allowing herself a sigh of relief. "And Commander Chakotay?"

"The commander is not present."

Paris drew in a shaking breath and pulled back from Kim's embrace. "Chakotay," he managed through chattering teeth, "got...to get...him."

"Where is he, Tom?" Kim still held onto him, rubbing his hands briskly over Paris' upper arms, trying to keep him warm.

"Hos...hospital," Paris sighed, and then shuddered; he felt colder.

"Which hospital, Lieutenant?" Tuvok inquired somewhat sharply.

Kim glanced up at him. He knew there was a purpose to the Vulcan's tone. They had to keep Paris alert, at least until they could figure out where Chakotay was.

But Paris shook his head, defeated. "Don't...know. I...don't know. "

"Captain, we are unable to ascertain the location of Commander Chakotay."

"I'm transporting you out of there, Tuvok."

Paris heard the captain's words. He shook his head, vainly tried to pull away from Kim's grasp. "No...no. We have to...find him."

Kim tightened his hold on the man. "Tom, we'll find him. We'll come back. We will find him."

"No... No!" The sound of his scream was lost in the wavering effect of the transporter beam.

~vVv~

"Hold still or I will sedate you," the Doctor said as he pressed Paris to the biobed.

"Wait...no," Paris struggled against the holographic doctor and then suddenly grew still when he felt another hand on him.

"Tom...calm down." Janeway's voice was both firm and soft, as was the comforting touch on his shoulder.

"Captain..." He stopped the rapid movement of his eyes, and focused on the face leaning over him.

"Right here, Tom. You're all right." She smiled, and despite his concern for Chakotay, Paris felt himself relax slightly. Perhaps it was the hypospray the Doctor had administered, but he liked to think it was Janeway's reassuring presence. If she'd found him, then she could find Chakotay. She had to. They couldn't leave him.

"Chakotay?" Paris murmured.

Janeway shook her head. "We haven't been able to locate him. Where was the last place you saw him?"

Paris licked his lips and swallowed. The last place... "The hos...pital," he managed, the words catching in his throat. The image of the building flashed in his mind's eye, and he shuddered.

Janeway closed her hand tighter around his shoulder. "Which hospital, Tom? Do you know the location?"

Paris sighed and shook his head. He'd been there. He remembered how they'd "ushered" him out of the lobby. But not before he'd seen the dark hallways, heard the noises, the screaming. But the location...

"North? East? West-"

"East," Paris cut her off. It was the eastern part of the city, near the river. "Close...close to the...water.''

"A river, Tom, or a lake?"

"River," he breathed with relief. "Close to the...river."

Janeway looked up, opened a channel. "Lieutenant Tuvok, Tom thinks the hospital where Chakotay is located is near a river on the eastern side of the town. I know it's not much to go on, but it's more than we had a little while ago."

Tuvok's voice replied, "I will adjust the sensor scan accordingly."

"Captain..." Paris felt the Doctor press another hypospray to his neck, and within moments he began to feel drowsy. "Cap... find...him."

Janeway smiled. It was the last thing he saw as his eyes fell closed. And the last thing he heard was her assurance.

"We'll find him, Tom. We'll find him."

~vVv~


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** Sorry it's taken me a while to post the next chapter. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

She knew he wouldn't like her idea, and so she wasn't surprised to see the typical arching of his eyebrows when she told him.

"Captain, it would be inadvisable for you to transport to the planet. Although Lieutenant Torres and Ensign Kim have been able to stabilize the gap in the temporal shielding, placing yourself in a possibly hostile situation is illogical."

Janeway gazed across her ready room desk at her Vulcan security officer and smiled. "I appreciate your concern, Tuvok, but the more I think about it, I'm the best person to go. Tom told the medical staff that he and Chakotay were roofers. Well – I own the construction company, and I want my employee back."

Tuvok's right brow lifted higher. "You know it will not be that simple."

Janeway sighed. "Probably not. But I don't think they're hostile, and it's worth a try." She could tell he wasn't pleased. "I'll take Harry with me. We'll be fine."

"As your chief security officer, I should accompany you."

Janeway smiled again. They were old friends, good friends, and he took better care of her than she did herself. She shook her head. "If I'm going to be there, then I need you here. Besides," she added, "it's only logical."

And he nodded in agreement.

~vVv~

Kim adjusted the tricorder and then studied the small monitor as information scrolled across it.

The fact that it was raining did not add to the building's appearance. It was a dark, square, brick monstrosity that looked barren and deserted under the lead-grey skies - like something from a holonovel, mid-twentieth century. Heavy drops of rain pelted the ground intermittently, and Janeway drew the collar of her coat closer around her neck, shuddering slightly from the wet cold. It had only been a little over two days, but even a day behind those walls, in his state of mind, probably felt like an eternity. It felt that way to her.

She glanced over at the man standing next to her. "Doesn't look too inviting, does it?"

"No, it doesn't," Kim answered, his eyes scanning the tricorder that lay cradled in his palm. "But, the readings are clear; Commander Chakotay is here."

"I guess I should be relieved, but I'm not. This place looks more like a prison than a hospital," she replied, looking back with the realization that Chakotay had spent days in the forbidding structure, alone, in the care of strangers. She squared her shoulders with determination. "You wait here."

"Captain, you can't go in alone."

Janeway leveled her gaze on the ensign. "I can't?"

He swallowed and shrugged his shoulders. "I mean… you shouldn't." Janeway narrowed her eyes. "I mean…" He sighed. "Lieutenant Tuvok told me to stay with you."

"Of course, he did," she smiled, reaching out and placing a hand on the young man's back, feeling the tension along his shoulder blades. "Well, we can't have you disobeying Tuvok's order, and who am I to override my security officer?" She could see the expression on his face instantly relax at her words, and she nodded toward the entrance. "Let's go. You just became my construction company's foreman."

~vVv~

Since Paris had been able to describe the local attire, Janeway and Kim were dressed appropriately, so they didn't look out of place when they entered the hospital – except for the fact that they were the only ones present. The waiting room was completely empty.

On the other side, there was one person seated behind the long receiving desk. Janeway and Kim walked over, and the young lady looked up at them. "May I help you?"

The captain smiled. "Yes. I'm Kathryn Janeway. A few days ago, one of my employees, Jack Kotay, was admitted. I was hoping to speak with either his doctor or the director of the hospital."

The receptionist paged through a notebook on her desk, then ran her finger down a column of names. "It just so happens that Mr. Kotay 's doctor is our director, Doctor Kinton. If you'll wait for a moment, I'll see if he's available."

Janeway nodded. "Thank you."

The woman disappeared through a door behind her, and Janeway looked over at Kim. The expression on his face was grim.

"The receptionist seems friendly," she said softly, hoping to reassure the young man.

Kim shrugged. "Friendly enough – for an institution."

Janeway started to say something more, but the woman was back almost instantly.

"Doctor Kinton can see you." She indicated another door to her left. "Down the hall, fourth door on the right."

"Thank you," Janeway smiled, then led the way with Kim walking close behind her.

When they reached the office, Janeway knocked. "Come in," sounded faintly from behind the wooden door. She pushed open the door and was immediately met by a rather pleasant looking man in glasses.

"I'm Doctor Aram Kinton," he introduced himself, holding out his hand.

Janeway took the proffered hand and gave it a firm shake. "Kathryn Janeway." She glanced over at Kim. "And this is Harry Kim, my foreman."

"Please, have a seat," Kinton indicated two chairs in front of his desk. They all settled into their respective chairs.

"So," Kinton folded his hands on top of his desk, "you're Mister Kotay's employer, is that right?"

Janeway nodded. "Yes. Jack's worked with my construction company for years." She exchanged a look with Kim. "He's one of our best employees. Mister Kim and I were out of town when his injury occurred and weren't informed about it until this morning. How is he?"

Kinton picked up a clipboard from his desk and skimmed over the notes. "He had considerable cranial swelling along the base of his skull when he was admitted two days ago. The friend who brought him in said that he was having severe headaches, and he has had some more since he's been here. We did a series of alphascans and have determined that there is some internal bleeding in the area. At this time, we have him under observation; I've seen slight subdural bleeding like this heal itself over time. It's better to wait before we attempt brain surgery."

Janeway winced at his words, fear and relief mingling together. The idea of Chakotay undergoing a twentieth century brain surgery filled her with dread.

"I'm sure you've taken excellent care of him, Doctor Kinton, but my company has its own physicians and a highly equipped clinic. I'd like to take Jack to them."

Kinton stared across the desk at her and shook his head. "I'm afraid that won't be possible, Ms. Janeway. I'm sure you're aware of city ordinances. Mister Kotay has obviously been affected psychologically by his injury. Any individual exhibiting symptoms of mental incapacity must be hospitalized."

Janeway sighed. "Yes, of course, and I can assure you that our clinic will hold him until such time as the physicians deem him mentally competent."

Kinton nodded. "Privatized hospitalization is allowed at times, but you would have to petition the court system, which, as you know, can be a lengthy process."

Janeway looked over at Kim; she could see the lines of worry tightening his features. Then she looked back at Kinton. "Can we see Jack?"

The man smiled slightly. "I can permit you to see him."

~vVv~

Janeway stood at the viewing window, one hand pressed to the glass pane. Her eyes searched the area, and she saw him almost immediately. He sat in a far corner of the room, near an external window, his back to her, his hands grasping the security bars that covered the opening. She recognized his dark hair and broad shoulders. He was rocking back and forth, slowly, rhythmically. No one was near him. No one spoke to him, or touched him. And she was reminded of an animal in a zoo, caged and lonely.

Doctor Kinton stepped up behind her, his eyes following her gaze.

"Is that him?" he asked quietly.

She nodded, not looking away from Chakotay, as if her gaze could give him strength, convey some sort of message. "Yes. Can I speak to him?"

"I'm afraid I can't permit it."

She turned toward him. "Can't...or won't?"

He frowned slightly. "I'm sorry, Ms. Janeway. I don't make the rules; I just have to abide by them."

Beside her, Janeway could hear Kim exhale a frustrated breath. So close, and yet…

"And the only way I can get him out of here is by petitioning the courts?"

"That's correct. I know it seems like a daunting process, but it is the law."

Janeway turned back to the window just as Chakotay shifted and turned, his face now visible. Even from a distance, she could see tears on his cheeks.

~vVv~

He wanted Tom.

He waited.

He never came.

He waited.

And then he cried.

Alone. Scared. The room was dark, and cold. There were noises outside. Screams. People yelling. And then silence.

The silence was more frightening than the screams.

He wanted Tom.

Still, he didn't come.

~vVv~

"We just go in there and we take him!" Torres declared, her fists tightening on the conference table before her. "Even if we have to use force."

Janeway sighed and shook her head. "It's not that simple, B'Elanna."

"And why not?" the chief engineer shot back, and then lowered her eyes when she realized that her temper was getting the best of her. "I'm sorry, Captain."

Janeway's hand reached over and touched Torres' arm. "It's all right. We all feel the same way." Her eyes scanned the crew seated around the table. Identical expressions of anger and frustration looked back at her. "And, B'Elanna is right. Partly. We do have to go in there and take him, but not by force. We have to get him out of there without anyone finding out about it until after we're gone."

Torres frowned. "We're able to transport directly from the ship to the planet's surface now, but only if we're outside. For some reason, buildings interfere with the transporter, and we can't establish a clear pattern lock."

Harry Kim leaned forward in his chair. "Then we sneak in, find him, get him outside, and then, with no one looking, we transport back through the time window and onto the ship."

Janeway permitted herself a slight smile. "My thoughts exactly, Harry."

"And easier said than done," Tuvok stated. "As you know, Captain, the hospital is guarded. And now that the director is aware of your interest in Commander Chakotay, security on his ward may be increased."

Janeway shook her head. "I don't think so. True, the director does know that I'm interested in getting Chakotay out of there, but... This is a world where everything runs according to the laws. The very idea that someone would go against their rigid code of behavior is unthinkable to them. Despite my interest, I doubt anyone's thought of increased security. And from what I've seen of the place, a tall chain-link fence, a guard at the front door, and duty nurses on each floor are about all the security they have."

"I have to go." Tom Paris' voice came from the end of the table. It was the first time he'd spoken since the beginning of the briefing.

Janeway steadied her eyes on him. "I'm afraid not, Tom. You're lucky I let you come to this meeting; I'm not about to send you back down to that planet."

"You don't understand. If I don't go, you won't get Chakotay out of that place." Paris pushed a hand through his hair and sat up straighter. The look on his face was tired, but intent. "He doesn't know anyone but me. And if you frighten him, he'll yell. If I'm there, he may be quiet long enough for us to get out."

Janeway shook her head. "We can sedate him if we have to."

"What? And lug a two hundred pound man out of there without calling attention to yourselves. With all respect, Captain, you don't have a choice. I have to go."

Janeway started to protest again, but Tuvok spoke. "The lieutenant is more than likely correct. Even if we are able to carry Commander Chakotay out of the hospital sedated, there is the matter of the few moments before we are able to administer the sedative. The slightest noise could alert someone."

Janeway sighed and gave a reluctant nod. "All right. Tuvok, Kim, Paris, and myself."

Tuvok raised an eyebrow. "Captain, I would recommend that you stay on the ship this time."

"I've seen those corridors, Lieutenant."

"So has Mister Kim. I believe his knowledge will be sufficient. And, if I'm going to be there, then you should be here. It's only-"

"Logical," Janeway finished his thought, recognizing her own words. Her gaze fell to the top of the conference table, and she studied it for a long moment. And then she looked up. "Agreed." She looked over at Torres, saw the hopeful expression on her face. "I need you here, B'Elanna."

The younger woman nodded in understanding.

Janeway glanced back at Tuvok. "When will it be night on the planet?"

"It is presently 1900 hours on Vaiden," he replied. "I suggest we transport down in seven hours."

~vVv~


	9. Chapter 9

The rain had stopped, but the air around them was still damp and muggy. Paris leaned against the side wall of the office building across from the hospital; Kim stood close beside him. He kept one hand on the pilot's shoulder, knowing that he still felt weak and a little unsteady on his legs.

"Maybe you should have stayed in Sickbay, Tom," he said softly.

Paris shook his head, drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly.

"Then at least stay here. Once we're in, Tuvok can better detect his biosign with the tricorder – we'll find him."

Paris lifted his eyes, stared at his friend. "And when you do, Chakotay could wake up half the hospital. He'll recognize me; I can keep him quiet."

Kim rolled his eyes. "But can you stay on your feet?"

Paris straightened and pulled away from the wall, standing on his own. The Doctor had pumped him full of antibiotics and pain meds, and, despite his residual weakness, he was feeling better – well enough to get in and get Chakotay out of there. "I'll be fine," he responded, trying to make his voice sound firm and confident.

Kim wasn't buying it completely, but held his objections. They'd find the commander and get him out, even if they had to carry Paris out with them. And he was right – Chakotay would be more compliant if Paris were there. He looked toward the corner of the building where Tuvok stood, using his tricorder to scan the opposite building. It looked even more forbidding in the black greyness of night – the shadows longer, the windows darker, the surrounding grounds sodden with the day's rain. Tuvok had already scouted the perimeter once, and he believed that he'd found a side door that they could use to gain entrance, but first they would have to cut the fence, and he was still trying to decide the best point of entry.

Kim saw him close his tricorder and clip it back to his belt. He glanced over his shoulder and motioned for them to come closer. Kim and Paris joined him at the corner.

"I believe the far right corner will be the best place to enter. There is a light at the front gate and another at the back gate, but the corners of the property are not lit at all. From that point, it is approximately one hundred meters to the side entrance, which appears to be a door to the basement. The service entrance is in the back, is probably used more often, and may be guarded, whereas the basement door would most likely not be under guard."

"At least we hope not," Paris breathed, then saw Tuvok start to raise an eyebrow. "I know – hope is illogical, but I'm going to hold onto it anyway."

Tuvok just nodded toward the street. "Let's go."

And the three men crossed over and went to the side, ducking into the trees that surrounded the hospital's fence. Paris and Kim followed Tuvok, letting him lead the way, stopping when he reached the far corner. They knelt by the fence as Tuvok used his phaser to cut away enough of the chain link so that they could push it back and crawl through. Once inside, they ran toward the side of the building, taking several steps down to the basement entrance. Tuvok turned his attention to the door, and Paris sank onto one of the steps, his breathing slightly increased. Kim ran a hand over his shoulder, and Paris nodded. "'m all right, Harry," he assured. And Kim patted his back.

The door was locked, but Tuvok's phaser melted the locking mechanism and he was easily able to push the heavy iron door open. They found themselves in a long, dark hallway, a lone light bulb glowed at the end – a juncture where one hall met another. Tuvok pulled open his tricorder and set the scan for Chakotay's biosign.

"Three floors up," he stated, then motioned toward the end of the hall. "This way."

They followed him, Kim taking note that the basement hall seemed to be lined with storage rooms – some doors open, others closed. At the juncture, Tuvok turned to the right and there was a flight of stairs leading up. The staircase seemed to be enclosed, which was a good thing. They could ascend all three floors without having to make their way onto any of the intervening floors.

When they reached what was probably the hospital's second floor, Tuvok stepped to the open doorway, looked both ways down the hall; no one was in sight. He pointed to the left and all three men proceeded, staying close to the wall, passing closed doors until they reached the fourth door. Tuvok stopped and turned the doorknob. Paris was relieved to see it turn in the man's hand, and then Tuvok pushed it open. The room was dark except for very pale light that came from the barred windows. There wasn't much inside – a side table, a chair, a bed, pushed into the far corner. Paris went ahead of Tuvok, immediately recognizing the man who lay on the bed – it was Chakotay. His eyes were closed, and Paris took note of the restraints at his wrists and ankles. Before he attempted to undo them, he wanted Chakotay awake and aware so that he wouldn't startle him. He leaned over the man, close to his ear, and whispered his name. "Chakotay, hey, wake up. I'm here."

Dark eyes immediately snapped open and his body lurched, pulling reflexively against the restraints. Chakotay gasped, and Tom laid his hands on his shoulders. "Hey, big guy." Chakotay blinked up at him. "It's me – Tom. We're taking you home." He saw that Chakotay's eyes had darted to the two men behind him. "Harry and Tuvok are with me. You have to be quiet."

"Tom?" the voice was low and tight, heavy with sudden tears.

Paris touched his fingers to Chakotay's cheeks, gently wiped away the wetness that flowed from his eyes. "I'm right here." Then he reached down and unfastened the straps at his wrists, moved quickly to his ankles and undid those restraints. He returned to the head of the bed and helped Chakotay sit up. The blanket fell away and Paris could see that he was dressed in thin pajamas.

"Chakotay, follow me and don't say a word, all right?"

Chakotay nodded.

And Paris rubbed the back of the older man's neck. "Good. Let's go." He took Chakotay's hand and crossed over to the door where Tuvok and Kim were standing guard. Tuvok nodded and they moved out into the hall. Paris wrapped an arm around Chakotay's shoulder, trying to keep him close, tucked in beside him. He walked slower than he had when they'd been together on the planet, and Paris wondered what kind of treatment they'd given him. He pulled him closer.

They reached the stairwell and turned in, heading down. And Paris sighed. So far, so good – not a person in sight. One flight down, and then another – past the main floor and getting close to the basement. Chakotay took every step methodically, one heavy footfall after another, but Paris could feel more of his weight leaning into him.

Just as they reached the basement hall, they heard it.

"Who's there?" A voice from above, and then a beam of light bouncing down the stairs, playing off the dark walls. "Stop!"

Tuvok moved in close to Paris and Chakotay, wrapped an arm around the commander. "Run," he ordered. And they pounded down the hall, turning into the main length, the outside door in sight.

The sound of people on the stairs clamored behind them. Kim rushed ahead, pushing at the door. It wouldn't budge; he shoved again - still no movement. He looked back, saw two people enter the hall far behind them. He took Tuvok's position, holding onto Chakotay, while the Vulcan slammed his shoulder into the metal door. It gave slightly – another forceful shove and it opened. They were through and Tuvok pushed it closed then slapped his commbadge.

"Four to beam up." And as the transporter caught hold, Kim looked back and saw the door opening.

~vVv~


	10. Chapter 10

A few minutes later, Kathryn Janeway strode into Sickbay, expecting to find a flurry of activity surrounding her newly returned first officer. Instead, the room was strangely silent and still. Chakotay was there, lying on a biobed with Paris standing beside him, but Tuvok, Kim, Kes, and the Doctor were not present.

She took a step closer to the occupied biobed, but Paris glanced over and gave her a slight shake of his head. She saw that he was holding Chakotay's hand while he gently stroked his other hand over the older man's forehead. Paris' eyes directed her toward the Doctor's office, and she looked to her left and saw Tuvok, Kim, Kes, and the Doctor beyond the glass wall.

"Doctor, how is he?" she asked moments later as she entered his office, and then, realizing that her tone was rather abrupt, she softened her voice. "Have you been able to examine him?"

"I have performed a cursory tricorder scan, and the commander is in no immediate physical danger. Mentally and emotionally, he appeared quite upset, and I thought it best to allow Lieutenant Paris to calm him before I continued. I could have sedated Commander Chakotay, but I would rather he be conscious and alert during the examination. Once he is accustomed to his new surroundings, I will proceed."

"He was terribly frightened, Captain," Kes offered. "Tom is the only person he seems to know or trust."

Tuvok nodded in agreement. "Kes is correct. Lieutenant Paris seems to have a calming and restorative effect on the commander."

Janeway smiled slightly at her security chief's words. "That's the first time I've ever heard Tom described as calming and restorative." She turned and looked out the window. Paris was still leaning protectively over Chakotay. "But, if it helps, give them all the time they need." She glanced back at the Doctor. "I'll be on the bridge. Keep me informed."

~vVv~

"I missed you," Paris said quietly, as he ran his hand over Chakotay's forehead. "I'm sorry I wasn't there." Chakotay stared up at him, still blinking from the bright lights and the tears that filled his eyes. Paris wiped his fingers over his cheeks, brushing at the wetness. "I didn't want to leave."

Chakotay swallowed, nodded his head. "I waited… for you."

Paris pressed his lips into a hard, thin line, closed his eyes for a moment; he could imagine Chakotay waiting for him, just like those times when he would tell him to stay in the tent until he returned. "I know you did. You were really good." He rubbed his hand over the older man's hair, brushing it back from his forehead. "Chakotay, do you know where you are?"

Brown eyes swept around the room before focusing back on him. Chakotay smiled slightly, reaching up and touching Paris' face. "With you," he breathed.

And Paris sighed, looked towards the doctor's office. "Do you remember the Doctor and Kes?" He shook his head, and Paris felt Chakotay's hand tighten around his. "They're friends. Will you let them help you?"

Chakotay licked his tongue over his bottom lip, then bit down on it; Paris could feel him tense.

"They won't hurt you. I promise."

Chakotay nodded again, and Paris waved his hand toward the office, caught the Doctor's attention. Janeway had left several minutes ago, soon followed by Tuvok and Kim. Now Kes and the Doctor approached the biobed.

"Chakotay, this is the Doctor and Kes. They want to examine you. All right?"

Another nod, another tightening of his hand.

"I'll stay right here," Paris promised.

Chakotay pulled back when the Doctor started to run a medical scanner over him.

"It's all right, Chakotay. It won't hurt," Kes said softly.

And Paris noticed that he relaxed at the sound of her gentle voice. He sighed with relief and watched as the Doctor continued with his examination.

"There's still some swelling at the base of his skull," he announced a few minutes later. "It's pressing on the brain stem. I think a few hours under a regenerative field should alleviate the pressure, and then I'll be able to assess any permanent damage." He picked up a hypospray from a nearby tray and moved closer to his patient.

Chakotay pulled away. "No!" His voice was loud in the quiet room.

"It's all right, big guy." Paris took the instrument from the Doctor's hand. "It'll just help you sleep." And he reached in and pressed it to his neck.

~vVv~

After Chakotay had spent several hours under a regenerative field, and Paris had rested as well, the Doctor called for the captain to return to sickbay. They gathered around the first officer's bed and watched as the Doctor administered a hypospray that would bring him to consciousness.

His head turned on the pillow, eyes creasing, fingers reaching out toward the captain. "Tom?"

Janeway pressed her hand into his shoulder. "No, it's Kathryn, but Tom's here."

Paris leaned in next to her, grabbed Chakotay's hand. "Right here, big guy."

The first officer's eyes opened fully, blinking from the light. He stared up at the faces above him. And then, a slow grin spread across his face.

"Commander, do you recognize your surroundings?" the Doctor asked from the other side of the biobed.

Chakotay licked his lips. "Yes," he murmured, "unless I'm dreaming."

Janeway smiled, her hand closing firmly around the man's shoulder. "I can assure you, Commander, this isn't a dream. How do you feel?"

Chakotay tried to sit up, but winced with pain and settled back on the biobed. "My head hurts," he said softly.

The Doctor pressed a hypospray against his neck. "This should help. But I must inform you that you may experience some discomfort during the next few days. Pain suppressants will ease the discomfort, but they may not eliminate the symptoms entirely. Rest assured that your body is healing."

Janeway rubbed her hand along Chakotay's arm. "What do you remember?"

He squinted with concentration, his dark eyes shadowed with elusive memories. "I...I don't know." He shook his head. "Just...images." He shifted his gaze to Paris. "You...were there."

Paris nodded. "I was."

Chakotay swallowed convulsively, his throat dry. "That's all...I don't remember much of anything else."

Janeway straightened. "That's all right, Commander. You don't have to remember anything else right now. We'll talk again later. You could use some more rest."

"I think...you're right," Chakotay agreed, allowing his eyes to fall closed.

In moments, he was asleep, his breathing steady and even. They stepped away from the biobed, Kes pausing to adjust the blanket covering the first officer.

Paris glanced back over his shoulder. "You're sure he's going to be all right?"

The Doctor sighed. "I believe the commander will make a complete recovery. I've relieved the swelling along the base of his skull and repaired the injury to his brain. With a few days' rest, he should be fit as a fiddle in no time."

Janeway groaned inwardly at the Doctor's somewhat annoying use of clichés, but Paris wasn't convinced. "Are you sure?"

The Doctor gave the pilot an exasperated look, but before he could respond, Kes joined them, placing a hand on Paris' shoulder. "He's going to be just fine, Tom. You took good care of him down there."

Paris' eyes widened. "Oh, yeah...I allowed him to be confined in that prison of a hospital...that's some good care."

"Kes is right, Tom. You can't blame yourself for what happened." The captain focused a steady gaze on the young man, her hand reaching out and closing around his upper arm. "You did take good care of him, and you had no control over his confinement in that hospital. Until you got him out." Her grasp on his arm strengthened. "And you did get him out." She grinned. "His life still belongs to you."

Paris allowed a smile to break over his face. "Yeah...it does. And I don't think I'll let him forget it."

Janeway sighed and shook her head. "I didn't think you would. Now," her expression turned serious once more, "Chakotay isn't the only one who could use some more sleep."

Paris started to protest. And Janeway silenced him with a look. "I don't want to see you on the bridge for another two days, Lieutenant. I suggest you get some rest."

"I agree with the captain's prescription," the Doctor said, looking up from the data padd he held. "Kes will be happy to escort you back to a biobed or you can return to your own quarters."

Paris held up his hands. "Uh, thanks, Doc, and no offense, but I think I'll go back to my place."

The Doctor looked slightly perplexed. "There was no offense taken, Mister Paris."

Kes laughed softly. "Come on, Tom." She linked her arm through his. "I'll escort you to your quarters."

~vVv~


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Two days passed. Paris rested.

And he visited Chakotay in Sickbay.

But things were different now. The first officer didn't fully remember their time on Vaiden. The Doctor assured him that wasn't unusual; he might never regain all of his memories.

But that meant he didn't have a clear recollection of the time he'd spent with Paris, and their relationship seemed to fall back to what it had been before the mission – a growing friendship perhaps, but not an easy one, residual doubt and past grievances were still close, under the surface.

When the Doctor finally agreed to release Chakotay, Paris accompanied him back to his quarters.

"I'll be fine, Lieutenant," Chakotay insisted as they entered his cabin.

"I'm sure you will be, but, as chief medic, I've been instructed to make sure you get a good night's sleep."

Chakotay rolled his eyes in mild annoyance. "All I've done for the past two days is sleep."

"Well, now you get to do some more of the same in your own bed." Paris nodded toward the bedroom. "Go on. Get into some pajamas and turn in. I'll bring you a cup of warm milk."

He fixed the younger man with a withering gaze. "You're not serious?"

"Just following the Doctor's orders," he replied, crossing over to the replicator.

Chakotay sighed and headed into his bedroom. He'd have a talk with the Doctor in the morning – surely he didn't need a babysitter – especially not Paris.

~vVv~

"Tom!"

The scream ripped through the cabin, and Paris was on his feet and into the next room instantly.

"Tom... Tom..." Chakotay was sitting up in bed, his eyes wide and fearful, hands clenched into fists, his arms moving as if fighting off nightmare images.

Paris sat down on the edge of the bed, taking hold of the man's shoulders firmly, yet tenderly. "Shh, it's all right, Chakotay. You're all right. Shh."

Chakotay blinked at the sound of the lieutenant's voice. The distant look in his eyes seemed to tighten and focus. He swallowed, his face turning toward the younger man. "Tom... Paris." The roughness in his voice hardened. "What are you doing here?"

"Just keeping you company," Paris answered, pressing him toward the bed. "Now, just lie down and get some sleep."

Chakotay's upper body stiffened, resisting the gentle pressure. "I don't need you tucking me in," he scowled, pulling away from Paris' hold.

"No, you don't. But I'm tucking you in anyway." He moved his hands back to the commander's shoulders, and this time Chakotay didn't resist.

He settled back onto the pillow, his eyes watching the pilot warily. Paris pulled the covers up around Chakotay's shoulders, tucking them softly under his chin.

"Get lost, Paris!" Chakotay grumbled, closing his eyes, shutting out the man's image.

"Whatever you say, Commander," Paris sighed. He hadn't been expecting Chakotay to react favorably to his presence. He understood his embarrassment. But still, he was slightly irritated. He'd saved the man's life...twice, and this was the thanks he got.

He stood up and started to step away from the bed. Suddenly, Chakotay's hand shot out from under the blanket and grabbed hold of his, fingers squeezing Paris' hand tightly. Paris stopped and looked down at the first officer. His eyes were still closed, but his breathing was fast and there were lines creased across his forehead and around his eyes.

Paris exhaled a quiet breath, letting go of his irritation, realizing that the first officer subconsciously remembered more of his time on Vaiden than he was consciously willing to admit. He sat back down on the edge of the bed, the fingers of his other hand reaching up and smoothing over the lines of Chakotay's tattoo. "Shh, just sleep," he whispered. "I'm here. I'm right here...big guy."

~vVv~

As Paris headed for the turbolift, the captain rounded the corner and fell into step beside him.

"Good morning, Tom." She smiled, her eyes bright and alert.

Paris shook his head and returned her greeting. "Morning, Captain." He was always impressed with her ability to be wide awake at such an early hour.

"How is Chakotay this morning?" she asked, knowing that the pilot had been checking on him over the past few days.

"I don't know. And...I won't know. You'll have to speak to Kes or the Doctor."

Janeway stopped and touched her hand to Paris' arm, bringing the young man to a halt as well. "What do you mean, Tom? I thought you were keeping a close eye on him. Even closer than I've been keeping. After all the two of you have been through..."

Paris sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "He asked me to leave him alone last night." He remembered Chakotay's harsh voice. "Actually, he made it an order." Paris focused his eyes on the deck.

Janeway's hand on his arm squeezed slightly. "Tom... He's a proud man. The dependency he formed for you on Vaiden-"

"Is embarrassing to him," Paris interrupted, looking up at the captain. "I can understand. I just hate that...well, we'd finally gotten to be friends, and now...this happens."

"You're still friends, Tom. Very good friends. Better friends than he's able to admit to right now." She smiled again. "Give him time. But ignore the order to leave him alone."

"Captain?"

"He thinks he wants to be alone, to distance himself from you and his memories of Vaiden. But he needs to face up to them, and he's going to need your help."

Paris nodded. "You're right, but... He is my commanding officer. An order is an order."

"True. But remind him that he's still on medical leave, and that the captain gave you permission to ignore certain orders." She squeezed his arm once more before pulling her hand away. "Now, why don't you go and make sure that he's eating a healthy breakfast?"

Paris still eyed her doubtfully.

"Trust me, Tom. He still needs you."

~vVv~

He ignored the chime. And Paris used his medical override code to gain entrance.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Chakotay looked up from where he was sitting at the table.

"Making sure you're eating a healthy breakfast. Captain's orders," he added, stepping closer to the table and eyeing the bowl of cereal and plate of toast, taking note of the glass of orange juice as well.

"I'm eating just fine," he sighed, annoyed even more by Paris' mention of the captain. "I don't need you checking up on me."

"Sorry, but the captain told me to remind you that you're still on medical leave. And I don't have to follow your orders right now."

Chakotay's eyes flashed up at him. "I appreciate the concern, but-"

"No, you don't," Paris cut him off. "You're mad at me right now. Admit it."

Chakotay pushed back from the table and stood, moved toward the viewport, his back to the younger man.

"I'm not mad, Paris." His voice shook slightly.

"You're starting to remember what happened down there." Paris stepped closer.

Chakotay shook his head. "I can't… I don't know… what happened."

Paris released a heavy breath. "Fine. You keep telling yourself that." He looked down at the floor, then back at the door, trying to decide if he should stay or leave.

What Chakotay said next made the decision for him.

"You left me." The words were mumbled, barely audible.

But Paris heard, and it hurt. He had left him. He couldn't help it, but still, he'd left him. Alone. Injured. Afraid.

"Chakotay..." He reached out a hand, touched the man's shoulder.

The first officer pulled away sharply. "I don't want you here," he murmured, his voice low and rough with emotion.

"Yes, you do."

The dark head shook in disagreement, the broad shoulders rising and falling with each deep breath. "Get out. Leave me like..."

"Like I did before," Paris completed the commander's sentence. He knew that Chakotay's conscious mind understood that he couldn't help leaving him, but it wasn't the man's conscious mind that hurt right now. It was his subconscious, his soul, the child buried deep inside. Paris took another step closer to him, this time placing both of his hands firmly on Chakotay's shoulders. "I'm sorry," he whispered. It wasn't enough; he knew that. It wouldn't make the nightmares go away, wouldn't make the memories fade, but it was all Tom Paris had to give.

And Chakotay accepted it, the tension in his body relaxing. He didn't turn around, but he leaned back into Paris' arms, into the man's warm embrace.

"I remember...it raining," Chakotay said quietly.

And then the words came, slowly, but surely, the two men sinking onto the floor and leaning against the desk, sitting close to each other, remembering a world that was far away from them now. Far away, and yet still so very close.

~vVv~

"I thought you were taking the week off, Commander?" Janeway questioned as her first officer sat down in the command chair next to hers.

Chakotay glanced over at her, a wry grin on his face. "I've taken enough weeks off, Captain. I think right here is where I'd like to be for, oh, seventy-five years."

Janeway smiled at his words. "Let's hope we're not here for that long," she acknowledged.

"Agreed," Chakotay said, drawing in a deep breath. His eyes caught hers, and she could see the relief in their warm, brown depths. "But, believe me, better here than there."

~The End~


End file.
